Chapter 3 - The Woman in the White VanKhloe woke with plastic cutting into her wrists.
The first thing she smelled was gasoline.
The second was blood.
Her own.
Her head throbbed where someone had struck her outside the hospital elevator.
She opened her eyes.
Darkness.
Metal walls.
A moving vehicle.
A van.
Her memory returned in fragments.
Danny being rushed into surgery.
A nurse telling her to wait on the fourth floor.
A man in a hospital security uniform approaching.
“Miss Hayes? There's been a problem with your brother's insurance information.”
She had followed him toward an administrative elevator.
The doors opened.
Someone grabbed her from behind.
Now she was lying on the floor of a moving van.
Khloe tested the zip ties around her wrists.
Too tight.
The van turned sharply.
Her shoulder struck the wall.
A male voice came from the front.
“She awake?”
Another answered.
“Doesn't matter.”
Khloe held still.
“You sure Russo has the locker?”
“He opened it twenty minutes ago.”
Khloe's heart stopped.
They knew about Union Station.
Which meant someone had followed Dominic.
Or someone inside his circle was reporting everything.
“She knows too much,” the first man said.
“She doesn't know anything.”
“She knows Hayes.”
“Hayes is in surgery.”
“And if he wakes up?”
“He won't get the chance.”
Khloe's stomach twisted.
Danny.
She forced herself to breathe quietly.
Think.
Her mother used to say panic was a luxury poor people couldn't afford.
You don't scream at the fire.
You find the door.
Khloe looked around.
A toolbox was bolted near the rear panel.
Loose cleaning supplies rolled along the floor.
A broken windshield scraper lay near her boot.
She stretched her leg.
Almost.
The van hit a bump.
The scraper slid closer.
Khloe trapped it beneath her heel.
Slowly, she dragged it toward her hands.
At Mercy Hospital, Dominic Russo stepped into the surgical waiting room with fury radiating from every movement.
Leo followed.
Two of Dominic's men were standing near the elevators.
One had blood on his collar.
“What happened?”
The man looked ashamed.
“We thought the guy was hospital security. Badge, uniform, everything.”
“How did he get her away from you?”
“She went toward the elevator. We were covering Danny's operating room.”
Dominic looked at him.
“So you chose.”
The man lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
“You chose wrong.”
“Boss—”
“Find the van.”
Leo was already on his phone.
“Hospital cameras caught a white Ford Transit leaving the service garage eight minutes ago.”
“Plate?”
“Stolen.”
“Traffic cameras?”
“Working it.”
Dominic looked through the glass toward the operating theater.
“Danny stays protected.”
“I'll put four men here.”
“No one gets near him unless the surgeon personally confirms who they are.”
Leo nodded.
Dominic turned away.
His phone buzzed.
Vincent Russo.
He stared at the name.
Leo saw it.
“Want me to answer?”
“No.”
Dominic accepted the call.
“Vincent.”
“Jesus Christ, Dom, I just heard. Are you okay?”
Dominic said nothing.
Vincent continued.
“Someone said there was a bomb at the car wash.”
“There was.”
“Where are you?”
“Mercy.”
“Why?”
“A witness was shot.”
“What witness?”
Dominic let the silence stretch.
Vincent filled it.
“The girl? The employee?”
Dominic's eyes changed.
He had not told Vincent there was a female employee involved.
No public reports had been released.
“How do you know it's a girl?”
Silence.
Tiny.
Barely noticeable.
But Dominic noticed everything.
Vincent laughed.
“Someone at the scene must have mentioned it.”
“Who?”
“I don't know. Dom, what is this?”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Stay there.”
“Why?”
Dominic ended the call.
Leo stared at him.
“That enough for you?”
“No.”
“It should be.”
“It makes him suspicious. It doesn't make him guilty.”
Leo's jaw tightened.
“You always give family one more chance than everybody else.”
Dominic looked at him.
“That's because when family betrays you, there should be no possibility you were wrong.”
In the van, Khloe finally hooked the broken scraper against the zip tie.
She sawed slowly.
The plastic began to weaken.
The men in front kept talking.
“Bellini wants Russo blamed?”
“No names.”
“You just said—”
“I said no names.”
Khloe froze.
Bellini.
Tony had named Bellini.
But the way these men spoke made it sound as though even that might be a layer hiding someone else.
The zip tie snapped.
Khloe kept her hands behind her back.
The van slowed.
One man said, “We're here.”
Khloe looked around desperately.
The rear doors opened.
Cold air rushed inside.
A heavyset man climbed in.
“Get up.”
Khloe didn't move.
He grabbed her arm.
She swung the broken scraper upward.
The plastic edge cut his cheek.
He cursed.
Khloe kicked him in the chest and jumped from the van.
She landed on gravel.
A warehouse district stretched around her.
Dark buildings.
Rail tracks.
Lake wind.
She ran.
A shot cracked behind her.
The bullet struck metal to her left.
Khloe ducked between two abandoned trailers.
“Get her!”
She ran harder.
Her lungs burned.
Her boots slipped on frost.
Ahead, a chain-link fence blocked the alley.
Dead end.
Khloe turned.
Two men approached.
One had blood running down his cheek.
“You should've stayed in the van.”
Khloe grabbed a piece of pipe from the ground.
Her hands shook.
“Come closer.”
The man smiled.
“You think you can use that?”
“No.”
She raised it anyway.
“But I think I can make you regret getting close enough to find out.”
Headlights suddenly flooded the alley.
A black SUV smashed through a wooden barricade.
The two men spun.
Doors opened before the vehicle stopped.
Leo emerged first.
Dominic stepped out behind him.
Khloe had never been so relieved to see someone she was supposed to fear.
The kidnappers ran.
Dominic's men pursued them.
Dominic walked straight toward Khloe.
She was still holding the pipe.
He stopped several feet away.
“Khloe.”
She stared at him.
“Are you hurt?”
Her fingers loosened.
The pipe fell.
Then her knees gave out.
Dominic caught her before she hit the ground.
For several seconds, Khloe clutched the front of his coat.
She hated that she was shaking.
She hated even more that she couldn't stop.
“They're going to kill Danny.”
“They won't.”
“You don't know that.”
“I have people outside his operating room.”
“They knew about the locker.”
Dominic looked down at her.
“What?”
“They knew you opened it.”
His face hardened.
“They were talking in the van.”
“What else did they say?”
Khloe hesitated.
“Bellini.”
Dominic's expression remained still.
“One of them said, ‘Bellini wants Russo blamed.’”
Leo, returning from the alley, stopped.
“Wants Russo blamed for what?”
“I don't know.”
Khloe rubbed her wrists.
“They were scared to say names.”
Dominic looked toward the abandoned warehouse.
The surviving kidnapper had disappeared between buildings.
One of Dominic's men returned carrying something.
“A phone.”
He handed it over.
The device was unlocked.
There were almost no messages.
One recent text.
MOVE GIRL TO PIER 18. V.R. WILL HANDLE CLEANUP.
Leo stared.
Dominic's face lost all emotion.
Khloe looked between them.
“Who is V.R.?”
Neither answered.
She understood anyway.
“Someone you know.”
Dominic looked at her.
“My cousin.”
Khloe's voice softened.
“I'm sorry.”
Dominic almost laughed at the absurdity.
She had been kidnapped because of his world, and she was apologizing to him.
His phone rang again.
Mercy Hospital.
Dominic answered immediately.
The surgeon spoke.
“Mr. Russo? Daniel Hayes is out of surgery.”
Khloe grabbed Dominic's sleeve.
“Is he alive?”
Dominic repeated the question.
The surgeon answered.
Dominic looked at Khloe.
“He's alive.”
Her eyes filled.
“But?”
The surgeon continued speaking.
Dominic's expression changed.
Khloe whispered, “What?”
Dominic ended the call.
“The bullet missed his heart.”
She exhaled.
“But he lost a lot of blood.”
“What else?”
Dominic hesitated.
“Danny woke briefly.”
“And?”
“He asked them to tell you something.”
Khloe stared.
“What?”
Dominic looked at the message the nurse had transmitted.
Three words.
He read them aloud.
“Dad is alive.”
Khloe stopped breathing.
May you like
Her father had been dead for fourteen years.
At least that was what Danny had told her.
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